


kings among runaways

by renaissance



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Hogwarts House Sorting, Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Friendship, Gen, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Werewolf Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 06:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renaissance/pseuds/renaissance
Summary: Four outcasts from four different houses meet in detention.





	kings among runaways

**Author's Note:**

> in 2011, i think, my best friend and i had this brilliant idea for an au where each of the marauders was sorted into a different house. at the time, we kept james in gryffindor and had ravenclaw remus, hufflepuff peter, and slytherin sirius. needless to say, the idea was so highly elaborate that it never made it into fic. late last year i revisited my old planning documents and decided that the sorting was all wrong. seven years and one massive revamp later, the dream has been realised. as for which house everyone's in now... you'll soon find out >:)
> 
> (title is from a decemberists song, again. don't judge me. "on the bus mall" is The found family anthem. unbeta'd in my haste to inflict this upon the world, typos and incoherence are on me.)

“One from each house tonight,” came McGonagall’s voice through the door. “Fifth years. Just lines will do, I think.”

Remus stared determinedly down at his desk. This was his first detention—not the first time he’d put himself at risk like this, but the first time in broad daylight, and of course he hadn’t got away with it. He should’ve known that from the start. His detention slip had referred him to this unused classroom on the fourth floor, and he’d taken a seat at the front of the room so he didn’t have to look his fellow miscreants in the eye.

A moment later, McGonagall came through the door. There was no indication of who she’d been talking to. Remus looked up, trying to catch her eye and make sure she knew how contrite he looked and by extension felt, but she ignored him, and if anything that left his pride even worse for wear.

“I have prepared lines for each of you to write,” she said, sitting down at the front of room desk. “Write neatly and efficiently, and you will be free to leave once you have completed four feet each.”

With a wave of her wand, four scrolls of parchment flew out to the four boys in the room, and Remus just managed to glimpse that there was a line written in tiny script at the top of each. He read his with a sinking shame settling on his shoulders: _I will not stray out of bounds_.

Each of their desks was already populated with several quills and an ink well. Remus got to work immediately—the last thing he wanted was for his roommates to notice he was out late and ask where he’d been. Although, he thought bitterly, they’d never remarked on his extended absences yet. It was always, “So long as you’re well now,” or, “Just don’t come back too late!”

He had written only fifteen lines when there was a loud crack from outside the room, followed immediately by several more. McGonagall’s stony facade did not crack. Then, there was a high-pitched wailing noise, and she stood up sharply.

“ _Peeves_.” She frowned at the four of them, sitting and working quietly, and seemed to come to a decision. “Excuse me, I must attend to this. Stay exactly where you are.”

Remus, being a good student, put his head down and kept writing lines. From behind him, where Sirius Black was sitting, Remus heard the sound of a chair scraping out and feet clunking up onto a desk.

“Can’t believe she’d leave us like this,” Black said. “Thought I knew dear Minnie better than that.”

“She let you call her that?” asked Potter.

“Only in bed,” Black said.

The Slytherin—Pettigrew, Remus thought—snickered, and after a moment Potter let out a shocked laugh. Remus kept his head down and wrote another line.

“Anyway, you all have me to thank for this,” Potter said. “Who do you think timed the firecrackers to go off just then? Who tipped off McGonagall’s _bête noir_ that this is where the trouble would be?”

“I like your style,” Black said. “I’m Sirius Black, in case you didn’t know.”

“Oh, I knew. I’m James Potter.”

“Peter Pettigrew,” piped up the Slytherin.

“And our taciturn friend?” Potter asked.

Not looking up, Remus said, “I’m in your Potions class, Potter.”

“Sure, I guess so,” Potter said. “Hufflepuffs, man, you all start to blur together after a while. Turpin, was it? No, wait, I know this…”

“Remus Lupin,” Black said, and Remus whipped his head around so fast he thought he might break open a few of the fresher scars on his neck.

“How do you know my name?”

Black just shrugged. “Made you look.”

Potter slapped his forehead. “Lupin, right, of course. What’s a quiet chap like you doing in detention?”

The silence that stretched across the room was as awkward as it was telling, but Remus wasn’t about to tell three almost-strangers that he, a werewolf, had developed a habit of slipping out of his assigned full moon transformation facility and running rampant in the Forbidden Forest, and that it was all fine until he couldn’t find one of his jumpers and realised he might have left it in the forest, snuck out to find it, and—got himself into detention.

Everyone was waiting for him to answer. “I—” he began. “I’m certainly not getting myself into it a second time, unlike you. A distraction during detention? Don’t you think McGonagall will trace that back to you?”

“Oh, I won’t get caught this time,” Potter said.

“Unlike last time,” Black joked.

“The only reason I got caught,” Potter said, glaring at Pettigrew, “is because some idiot Slytherin thought he’d be clever and use my enchanted mirrors to cheat on his test, so I didn’t have all the necessary precautions for my prank.”

Potter proudly held up his parchment. He had not written anything beneath the initial line, which was disconcertingly specific: _I will not attempt to trap first years in nets as they walk down unpredictable staircases_.

“A prank,” Black said, “nice one, mate. I got done for a prank too.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” Potter said.

Black raised his eyebrows. “I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve, the likes of which you’ve never even thought about, Potter.”

“Maybe we ought to work together sometime.” Potter turned to Pettigrew. “You too, Slytherin. Take a tip from a professional: if you want a reputation as a bad boy, there are better ways to do it than to cheat on a Charms test.”

Pettigrew slunk lower in his chair; Potter clearly had his number.

“What about you, Lupin?” Potter asked. “Up for some mischief?”

Black all but climbed across his desk to drape his arms over the back of Remus’ chair. “We still don’t know what you did to get detention. Was it a prank, too?”

 _I will not stray out of bounds_.

“I didn’t do anything,” Remus said.

Pettigrew looked at him in confusion. “Nothing? So you just came here for fun?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Black said, “he obviously just doesn’t want to tell y—wait, really?”

“Really, definitely,” Remus said. “Swear on my mum’s life.”

Which was a lie he could get away with, because she was already dead.

Potter smirked at him. “I could use a good liar on my side. Aren’t you Hufflepuffs supposed to be an honest sort, though?”

“I’m not on your side,” Remus said, “so it hardly matters.”

It looked like Potter was about to say something else, but then the racket outside died down abruptly and McGonagall’s footsteps started down the corridor, closer to the room. Potter swore and clambered onto his desk, casting a spell on his parchment, then reaching out to do the same to each of theirs in turn. Remus watched as a jet of ink flew out of his well and filled up his four feet with _I will not stray out of bounds_ , in his very own handwriting. Pettigrew was sitting too far away for Remus to tell what was on his parchment, but he presumed it had something to do with the cheating. Black was close enough to see, though, and Remus caught sight of a deliberately large and messy scrawl spelling out _I will not start fires_ over and again.

They were all sitting innocently in their seats when McGonagall swept back in. “Right, now that that’s dealt with, let’s see how you’re—ah, finished already, Lupin?”

Remus’ throat felt dry, but what was one more lie? “Yes, just a moment ago.”

“I’m finished too, Professor,” Potter said.

“Me too,” said Black. “Finished ages ago.”

“Let me guess,” McGonagall said, “you’re finished too, Pettigrew.”

Pettigrew audibly gulped. “Yes, Professor.”

McGonagall looked between them, but she couldn’t seem to come up with any explanation for how four boys who barely knew each other and had been sitting in perfect silence could’ve collaborated to use some trickery to finish their lines early. As Remus was closest to her, she tapped her wand to his parchment and muttered something to herself. For a terrifying moment Remus thought she would find him out, and then he wouldn’t even be able to explain what had happened—but she seemed satisfied with what she saw, and put her wand away.

“Very well. You may all leave. I just hope you’ve learnt the lessons you’ve committed to the page.”

When they were outside the classroom and McGonagall had swooped away in the direction of the staff room, Remus wanted nothing more than to go back to his dormitory and try to forget that any of this ever happened. He couldn’t move, though, because Potter had him by the sleeve.

“Clever spell,” Black said. “Did you find that in the Restricted Section?”

“Made it up myself,” Potter said.

Pettigrew breathed out a silent _wow_.

Potter continued, “You all owe me one, now. Even you, Lupin. I want to pull off a big prank over Christmas, but I can’t do it alone. Are you in?”

“Yes, absolutely, definitely,” Pettigrew said. “You say the word, James. I’ll do it.”

“Obviously I’m in too,” Black said.

Well, Remus thought, the spell with the lines had been very impressive. And James had helped him out in a big way. Maybe it would be fun to spend some time with people like this—not necessarily bad boys looking for worse reputations, but people who _pushed_ , people who would call Remus up on his lies.

“I’m in,” he said. Despite himself, he grinned. “What’s the plan?”

 

* * *

 

Potter gave Remus no notice before sliding up beside him in Potions. “Got a partner?” he asked, and didn’t wait for an answer. “Great. Let’s work together.”

“We’re not friends just because we sat together in detention once, Potter,” Remus said. “And you still haven’t told me your grand plans.”

“Never mind that. You’re the least essential part of my plan right now. Did you know Sirius Black is in Gryffindor?”

Remus stared at him. “I—yes. I thought that was obvious.”

“Alright, but it’s the connotations,” Potter said. “Black is in Gryffindor. You know who else is in Gryffindor? Lily Evans.”

This was also something Remus knew. He worked with Lily in Herbology; she was as good a friend as Remus had, but he often felt that her friendship was a bit of an indictment on his personality, since all of Lily’s other friends were creeps (Severus Snape) or wankers (Sirius Black). All things considered, Remus would probably rather be a wanker than a creep.

Potter continued: “Evans is also friends with that Slytherin creep, Snape. You know who’s in Slytherin? Peter bloody Pettigrew. I’ve got all the connections lined up. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Until what?” Remus asked. He had a feeling he’d regret it.

“Until Evans notices I exist, obviously!” Potter said, and yes, Remus regretted asking. “You’ve seen her, right, Lupin? She’s beautiful. She’s the girl of my dreams. We’ve never talked, of course, but I’m not going to let that stop me. All I need to do is get her attention. Something big, something flashy.”

“So this is what your grand plans are about?”

Remus might’ve got a conclusive answer, but Slughorn came into the room to start the lesson and gave Potter a particularly withering glare, which shut him right up.

Potions was probably Remus’ least-favourite class. It wasn’t that he was bad at it—he was equally mediocre at all his subjects, except History of Magic, which always netted him bafflingly high marks—but that he hated this sort of messy work; he hated the liquids that stung the cuts on his fingers, and he hated being reminded that, at his core, he was a messy, visceral creature.

They were working on a Strengthening Solution, and Remus at first wondered if Potter would be any help. He seemed like the type who’d rather muck around than do his work, even if he was a Ravenclaw. But Potter was handy and diligent, took over most of the work by nature, and did it faster than Remus could ever hope to.

Because he was taking a shine to Potter, Remus decided to give him a little help. “You know, Lily’s in the Slug Club.”

Potter made a face, but didn’t look up from the ingredients he was chopping. “What’s that? Sounds icky.”

“You know, it’s—” Remus lowered his voice, “—Slughorn’s exclusive group for his best students.”

“Oh! Then why aren’t I in it? That seems like a huge oversight.”

“I agree,” Remus said. “And if you were, maybe you could approach Lily like a reasonable person and not this weird attention-seeking campaign you’re planning.”

Slowly, Potter raised his head, and gave Remus the most unnerving grin he’d ever seen. “Now there’s an idea.”

“Potter, no.”

“Potter emphatically yes,” he said. “I’m going to find out when the next Slug Club meeting is and we’re going to pull off a prank so outlandish that Evans won’t fail to fall for me.”

Well, Remus had said he’d help. “But let’s not talk about it now, yes?”

“You’re right. Let’s sneak out tonight and plot. How do you feel about the Astronomy Tower?”

“I can’t do tonight,” Remus said. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

“That’s no fun. How come?”

Remus glanced around the room, making sure no-one was listening in. “My mum’s sick. I have leave to go home and visit her every now and then.”

Potter patted him on the arm. “I understand. We’ll do it tomorrow night. Say hello to your mum for me; send her my best wishes.”

“Thanks,” Remus said. He was weirdly touched. None of his housemates had ever said anything of the sort when he’d used his sick mother as an excuse.

“I’ll tell Black and Pettigrew,” Potter said. “Isn’t it exciting, Lupin?”

“Terribly so,” Remus admitted.

Potter gave him the kind of smile that was traded solely between friends. It felt like contraband. Remus knew he’d have to share this with Black and Pettigrew too, but for now, he was keeping it very much to himself.

 

* * *

 

The full moon was worse than it had been in a long time. Remus ached all over and he had fresh new cuts on his arms and legs. He never remembered being the wolf, but the wolf made sure he knew it had been there, scarring him and burning the transformation into his bones. By the next morning, Remus was safe in the Hospital Wing. He always was. That didn’t make it any easier.

He was under strict orders from Dumbledore, delivered sternly via Madam Pomfrey, to stay put and rest for as long as he needed. So of course, limping on his bad left leg, Remus snuck out of the Hospital Wing at night to meet his co-conspirators in the Astronomy Tower.

“What kept you, Lupin?” Potter asked. “We’ve been waiting.”

Remus simply said, “Sorry.”

“You weren’t in Herbology today,” Black said. He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t have noticed, but Evans had no partner, so I ended up working with her.”

Potter got to his feet and grabbed Remus’ hands; Remus winced at the pain.

“You know Evans? You work with her in Herbology? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We’re not that close,” Remus said. Black looked at him strangely, but didn’t comment.

“That’s fine,” Potter said. “We can work with this. You’re most likely to find out when the next Slug Club event is, at this rate. Come on, sit down. Let’s put some thought into this.”

With some effort, Remus sat, pulling his knees up close to his chest. The stone floor was cold and the tower was open to the elements. Remus wished he had his winter cloak with him.

Pettigrew spread a sheet of parchment between the four of them. “As I was saying, Slughorn’s parties are always in his office. It’s down in the dungeons near the Slytherin common room, so I’m always walking past them on the way back after, you know, sneaking out. But, well, there’s no regular pattern to them.”

“At least the location is good,” Black said. “If we can get a few Slytherins while we’re at it, even better.”

“Aren’t your family all Slytherins?” Pettigrew asked. “I know your little brother, Regulus.”

“I wouldn’t say that anyone knows Regulus,” Black said.

Potter gave Black a look like he was sizing him up. “There’s not much braver than going against your family. I reckon it says a lot that this one’s a Gryffindor.”

There was no mistaking the smile that broke Black’s affected wanker scowl. It was the physical manifestation of the way Remus had felt when Potter had reached out to him, too. Come to think of it, Remus had never seen Black chatting more than cursorily to any of the people he partnered in Herbology, or even at mealtimes. It was quite likely that all four of them sitting here were just as friendless as each other.

“Finally, someone recognises my genius,” Black said. The wanker smirk was back; it was hard to tell if he was joking. “So what’s the point of pranking a Slug Club party? Is it, you know, to prove a point? About the man?”

“I thought you were good at Potions,” Pettigrew said. “Why would you want to get back at Slughorn?”

“What do you—no, idiot, I mean the _man_. The establishment. Showing we’re above all that shit.”

“Yes, definitely,” Potter said, “giving a two-fingered salute to the people in power. I mean, who knows how many of them are going to go off and join Lord Voldemort’s lot? Yeah. The establishment.”

Black nodded approvingly, and Potter looked very proud of himself. Remus looked at the both of them and said, “Potter wants to prank the Slug Club to get Evans’ attention.”

Pettigrew and Black laughed unreservedly. Remus kept his face as blank as possible, only condescending to raise an eyebrow at Potter, who was looking at him like this wouldn’t have come out eventually.

“But I’ve got principles too!” Potter said quickly.

“Let me get this straight,” Black said, still laughing, “you’re going to woo a girl by ruining her evening? Smooth, Potter.”

“The spirit of a good prank is getting a laugh out of people, not making them miserable. I was thinking along the lines of making it rain lollies from the ceiling, or having a flight of birds interrupt the party, only the birds are made of glitter and explode all over you when you touch them.” He paused, twisting his lips in thought. “Although, if you’re interested in malicious pranks, I’ve got a bone to pick with Severus Snape.”

“Let’s stick to the glitter birds for now,” Remus said. He’d rather not get in trouble for something malicious; it was bad enough that people already assumed he was a cruel, vicious creature.

Potter had brought the parchment and quills. They huddled around the parchment as Pettigrew sketched a map of the area around Slughorn’s office, and moved from there onto designing spells, practising the charms they’d need to sneak in, the kinds of diversions they could start to get Potter in position to cast the spell.

It was the most fun Remus had had in a long time. Ever, maybe. It ended too soon for his liking, but his bones were aching for his warm bed, so he didn’t complain. It was going to be tough to sneak back to the Hufflepuff dormitories like this. Remus had to cling to the railing to make it down from the Astronomy Tower. He was dizzy with excitement, delirious with exhaustion. He took longer than the others, and when he finished his descent, Potter and Pettigrew had already gone up ahead. Slytherin and Hufflepuff were close by; it would’ve been nice if Pettigrew had waited, but Remus supposed he was getting ahead of himself, expecting too much from his new friends.

Black, though. Black was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, eyeing Remus’ left leg.

“You alright? That’s a nasty limp you’ve got there.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said. “I’m so clumsy, things like this happen all the time. It’ll come right in no time.”

“If you’re sure,” Black said. He didn’t sound sure at all, but it still came as a surprise to Remus when he said, “Want me to walk you back to your common room?”

Remus shook his head. “It’s too out of your way, and we’d be going so slow that we’d definitely get caught.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“But—thanks, Black. I appreciate it.”

“Call me Sirius.” His expression was grim. “I’m not like my family.”

Realising that he’d been tensing his shoulders, Remus allowed himself to relax. He even allowed himself to smile. “I know.”

Sirius smiled too, a different smile to the one he’d given Potter. This one was harder to read. He said, “Get back safe, Remus,” and then he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Every day the following week, Remus sat with his new friends at lunch. They ate as fast as they could and then met out on the grass by the lake. On the first day they’d done it, Remus’ roommate Stephen had asked where he was going. Remus had said the first thing that came to mind—to the library—and Stephen had told him to study well. Nobody had asked since then.

It was Friday, and Pettigrew was the first one out. Remus had seen someone stop Potter for a chat on his way, so who knew how long he’d be. Potter talked to a lot of people, but never the same person twice. And Sirius was nowhere in sight. That wasn’t unusual, Remus was beginning to realise—Sirius was always in Herbology, but Remus often caught sight of him between classes walking in the other direction to the rest of the Gryffindors.

So today, for however long, it was just Remus and Pettigrew. Pettigrew was hard to get to know; apart from the fact that the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins shared no classes, it seemed like Pettigrew attached whatever personality was nearest to his own and ran with it. That had been strange when they’d bumped into each other in the library, and he’d become as quiet and studious as Remus.

Remus decided to try something different. “Alright, Pettigrew? Looking forward to the prank?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Pettigrew said. “I guess I’m a bit nervous, too.”

“It must be harder for you, since it’s your Head of House. Maybe Potter will have a way for you to keep out of sight.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Pettigrew asked hopefully.

“Maybe you could be lookout,” Remus said. “You wouldn’t get to see the birds, but you’d have a reasonable excuse for hanging around there, since it’s near your common room.”

Pettigrew looked down at his hands. He shrugged. “I guess so.”

Remus said, “If you’re so worried about getting in trouble, why did you cheat on your Charms test?”

“You don’t understand what it’s like!” Pettigrew cringed at himself, and for a moment it seemed that he wouldn’t continue. At last, he found the words. “Being in Slytherin… I’m not pureblood, my parents are both half-bloods, nobodies. Everyone else has all these connections, or they don’t but they’re going to be Death Eaters anyway, and that’s a connection of its own. I’m too much of a coward to join the Dark Lord. All I wanted to do was have something I was good at, some way to stand out.”

“It’s not standing out if you’re not really good at it, you know.”

“I know that! It wasn’t—well—Potter and I know each other from Herbology, alright? He was showing off to Wilkins about having this pair of mirrors that showed each other’s reflections. I went up to him after class and asked if I could borrow the mirrors for a bit. I told him I had a girlfriend in Hufflepuff. Don’t think he bought it, but he lent them to me anyway. I hid one mirror on my bed, propped it up in front of my charms textbook, and took the other with me to the test. I wasn’t going to do it _forever_. Just until I had studied enough so I wouldn’t have to.”

“I get it,” Remus said. He got that Pettigrew needed to tell someone or he’d burst. “It’s still the worst idea ever, though. You can start coming to the library with me, if you want. I can help you with your homework, and then you can learn how to do it better yourself.”

“Thanks.” Pettigrew’s shoulders sagged. “That would be nice of you.”

Remus looked up to the castle just in time to see Potter leaving, leaping over the steps and casting some spell so that he floated down onto the lawn.

“Want me to ask Potter about making you a lookout?”

“I’ll do it myself.”

No longer ignoring the laws of gravity, Potter tumbled onto the grass and sat between them. “Where’s Black?”

“Who cares,” Pettigrew said. “I wanted to ask, Potter, if there’s any way I can get more involved in the prank? I want to be on the front lines.”

Remus smiled to himself; Pettigrew was picking up on Potter’s brashness already. A self-described coward would never ask to be on the front lines. Remus wondered what that said about himself, that when Pettigrew was around him he became insecure, acutely aware of his own failings. Maybe Remus needed a bit of Potter’s attitude in him too.

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” Potter said. “You know the area well, and we’ll probably someone to sound the alarm if it looks like we’ll be caught out. I think you’d make a good lookout, Pete.”

 

* * *

 

Remus was, most of the time, a model student. He did all of his homework on time, studied for tests, and attended all of his classes unless they fell on the day after a full moon. He’d never skipped class on purpose. It was History of Magic, though, and there was always more to learn in the library than in Binns’ lessons. Remus wouldn’t be missed.

He peeled off from the group of Hufflepuffs he was walking with—none of them noticed—and ran back down the stairs. That’s where he’d last glimpsed Sirius. Once Remus reached the bottom of the stairs, though, Sirius was out of sight. There was nobody in the corridor except portraits and statues. Remus stood in front of a large, tarnished mirror and watched his reflection scratch his head.

Maybe Remus would be better off going back to History of Magic. Maybe Sirius didn’t want to be found.

But just as Remus was about to give up and go, the mirror swung forward on invisible hinges, and Sirius’ head popped out from behind it. “If you’re coming, get in quick.”

Remus did.

The space behind the mirror was cavernous; as Remus’ eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw that it was a passage, winding away into the distance.

“Where are we?”

“A cheat’s route to Hogsmeade,” Sirius said. “The barman at the Hog’s Head serves students even if it’s not a Hogsmeade weekend, but not the hard stuff.” He paused, looking down the passageway. “Sometimes I just sit here, though.”

“Do you skip a lot?” Remus asked. He had a feeling he knew the answer.

“Whenever I think I can get away with it. I’ve stopped getting detention for it—the professors are used to it, and my marks are good enough that it’s not an issue.”

Oh, to be so effortlessly talented, Remus thought. What an easy life Sirius must have.

“In detention, when we met, you knew my name,” Remus said, because at least for now, he had Sirius vulnerable. “Can I ask… how?”

“Did you know my name before we met?”

“Of course,” Remus said. “But everyone knows your name.”

“We have Herbology and Muggle Studies together,” Sirius said. “And Runes, though I barely go to those classes.”

“I guess in a family like yours you grew up writing to each other in Runic.”

Remus thought for a moment he’d overstepped, but Sirius laughed. He sat down, and Remus joined him, less than comfortable on the cold and uneven stone floor. They didn’t talk for a while—sound echoed in this space, and Remus could still hear Sirius’ laugh ringing around him.

The echo faded. Someone had to say something; it would get awkward otherwise. Because Remus was on a roll, he blurted, “So what did you set fire to?”

“My bed.”

Remus frowned. “To what end—were you trying to frame someone?”

“Myself,” Sirius said. “Sometimes it’s like I’ve got all this anger and nothing to do with it, you know? I hate my roommates. I thought Gryffindor would be better than Slytherin, at the very least, but it’s all the same shit.”

“So… you set your bed on fire.”

“It made sense at the time. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe not,” Remus said. A white lie; Sirius had no idea what anger was. “I do know what it’s like to be a stranger in your own dorm, though. It’s lucky we found you. Who knows what else you’d have set on fire, left unchecked.”

Sirius might have been about to say something. He was looking at Remus like he wanted to. The moment was interrupted by the mirror swinging open—Remus and Sirius scrambled to their feet, but it was just Potter, huffing as he lost his footing and closed the mirror door behind him.

“Afternoon,” Potter said, brushing dust off his shoulder. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

Remus didn’t believe it was a coincidence. “How did you find us?”

“I have my ways, Remus. Thought you might have been planning something without me.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Sirius said. “We were talking about what a prick you are.”

Potter shrugged it off. “That’s fair.”

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Remus asked.

“Free period,” Potter said. “Now, are we going to Hogsmeade or what?”

Neither of them asked how he knew about the passage. Next time they were all free, Remus resolved to show it to Pettigrew too. No more windy Astronomy—this place was just big enough for the four of them.

 

* * *

 

Surely there were better things to be doing on pleasant a Sunday morning than looking at a map in a dusty classroom, but Remus couldn’t think of them.

“I haven’t told anyone else about it,” James said. “Not even Sirius. This was my extracurricular homework last year.”

It was awfully impressive: a map of the entire school, with dots floating around it, labelled with names. Everyone, everywhere. There was one thing bothering Remus, though. “So why me?”

“Call it a hunch. I’ve memorised the lot of it, and you don’t strike me as the type to have done much sneaking around, so I thought I’d give you a good place to start.”

“How would you know?” Remus said. “I’ve done a bit of sneaking in my time.”

Careless. Now he would have to explain why, and that could only end badly. But all James said was, “Neat. I guess I’ve been underestimating you.”

“Can I still borrow the map?”

“And add to it, if you want. I’ll show you all the spells sometime. The others should be here soon, though, so…”

“We can work on the birds, in the meantime.”

Remus had become very adept at creating James’ glittery birds. The spell started with a shower of sparks, which needed to take their form swiftly otherwise they’d disintegrate. Once they were birds, it took a great deal of concentration to send them flying around, although James said he was working on a way to give them a mind of their own. Then, they’d be ready to form a flock. The final step was built in from the start, that the all of the sparks in any given bird would transfigure into glitter as soon as even one part of the bird touched a person. The birds could hit the wall and nothing would happen—that was Sirius’ addition to the spell.

There had been no news about when Slughorn would next convene his club. For now, Remus focused on creating a bird in a spectacular pinkish-red, and he set it flying about the room, dodging an obstacle course of chairs and desks.

“Autonomy is harder than you’d think,” James said. He had two birds circling his wand, green and purple, and seemed to be controlling both of them at once.

“I imagine it’s exactly as hard as it sounds,” Remus said, “to give a creature of pure magic a mind of its own.”

“I suppose you’re right. I bet it’s N.E.W.T. level.”

Remus didn’t want to say that he thought it was quite a bit beyond N.E.W.T. level. James had no idea that he was a prodigy, and it would have been like breaking an enchantment to tell him otherwise; Remus found his innocence rather charming.

“Sometimes I wonder about that, though,” James continued. “We know that non-human creatures can have human levels of sentience—you know, centaurs, merfolk, werewolves…”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.” Remus wasn’t giving himself away, he wasn’t. He imagined arrows coming out of midair to point at him, and a sign spelt out in sparks. His bird faltered, but he managed to keep it on course.

He didn’t want to correct James first-hand, but a werewolf’s level of sentience couldn’t be that acute, if they killed indiscriminately. Perhaps James was confusing the wolf for the human that hosted it.

“There are so many theories about how that sentience evolved, whether it was expedited with magic. What if we could make that happen right in front of our eyes?”

Remus didn’t respond.

His bird zoomed past the door to the classroom right as it opened, and hit Sirius right in the face. James, and Peter behind Sirius, burst into laughter—Remus was just glad to see that he’d done the spell right. Sirius was even more handsome than usual with glitter all over his face and through his hair. He took two fingers to each cheek and drew lines in the glitter.

“Glam,” he said. “Good thing you’re making progress; we’re going to need it soon.”

James dropped his concentration, and his birds skittered across the floor, perfectly intact. “Do you know when it is?”

“I overheard Slughorn telling Avery outside the common room,” Peter said. “It’s this Tuesday.”

No, it couldn’t be.

“A Tuesday?” James said. “Seems like a bit of a strange time to hold a party.”

There was no way. Remus was starting to run out of excuses.

“That’s what I said, but apparently Slughorn has some guests coming to this one, big shots who could only make it then,” Sirius said.

Then, they’d be one person short.

Tuesday the 18th. It was a full moon.

Remus had told James about his sick mother once, and James was smart enough to work it out the second time. The simplest thing for Remus to do was to give no excuse. He wouldn’t show up, they’d think he’d chickened out, and then they’d never talk to him again, and it would be for the best. What had he been thinking, trying to make friends, let alone friends this clever? Coming to Hogwarts was more than he could ever have hoped for. He would be greedy to want more.

“Perfect, perfect,” James said. “That gives us two and a half days to make this work. We need to start by getting the birds to move as a flock, and if the autonomy spell doesn’t come together by then, the flock behaviour will have to be enough.”

“Oh, I’d been thinking about the autonomy aspect,” Sirius said. “I’ve got a couple of ideas on that front. I can test it out now.”

“You, my friend, are a glittering genius! Let’s see it, then.”

Yes, too clever by far. The best he could do was enjoy this while it lasted.

“Here,” Remus said, “I’ll cast another bird for you.”

 

* * *

 

Remus never remembered how he got to the Hospital Wing—if he was ever conscious as he recovered in the Shack, he forced himself back to sleep. It was better than being awake while Madam Pomfrey came in and tutted, better than being fussed over. He knew that if he was waking up tucked into a neat, uncomfortable bed that the worst was over.

This morning was different. He was convinced that not only was the worst not over, but that the worst had not even begun. He hadn’t met James, Sirius, and Peter at the fourth floor passage behind the mirror, as they’d agreed. He could only imagine what they would think of him now.

He stayed in bed for some time, not willing to go back to life without his new friends. Madam Pomfrey was solicitous as ever, bringing him food that was gentle on the stomach and a mug of hot black tea, as she knew he liked it. When she decided that he was well enough to stand, she helped him to his feet.

“I can go alone from here, thanks,” Remus said.

Madam Pomfrey let him stand, frowning. “I should warn you, Remus, your friends are waiting outside. I tried to shoo them away, but they were quite stubborn about it. The best I could do was warn them to be gentle with you. Goodness knows how they even knew you were here…”

 _Your friends_. Remus tried not to let his anguish overcome his face. “Thanks,” he managed.

And there they were. Peter was sitting on the ground against the railing, and the other two were leaning either side of him—Peter sprung to his feet, and James rushed forwards, grabbing Remus’ hands.

“Remus! You’re alright!”

“I’m fine,” Remus said. Did they know? There were bandages on his arms, he was limping. “It was just a fall.”

“Sure, uh-huh,” James said. “Of course.”

Remus didn’t have the energy to do much more than sigh. “Go on then. Aren’t you angry at me?”

“For what?” Sirius asked.

“For disappearing last night?” Peter said. “Not a problem. We decided not to go either.”

James gave Remus a sheepish smile. “We’ll get the Slug Club next time. I’m sure they don’t always meet on a full moon.”

He realised what he said a moment later and winced. Peter looked awkward; Sirius had not reacted. So they’d worked it out. This was the worst case scenario. He’d disappeared once a month on the night of the full moon for five years, and his roommates had never remarked on it, but after knowing these three for one month and skipping out on two full moons, they had worked it out like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You,” Remus said. “ _You’ll_ get them next time.”

James let go of Remus. “What makes you think you’re not coming with us?”

“I’m—”

“We don’t care,” Sirius said. “You’re our friend. That’s all that matters.”

At first, Remus thought he hadn’t heard correctly. He jabbed a finger into one ear to check whether it was blocked.

“I think it’s pretty cool to have one for a friend, you know,” Peter said.

“I’ve been doing a lot of reading,” James said. “Most of the discrimination is unfounded; the only reason so many of you have become isolated from Wizarding society is fear. If werewolves hate Wizards, we only have ourselves to blame.”

There was the word, in the open at last.

“Of course,” James added hastily, “it’s perfectly possible to be both a Wizard and a werewolf, as you are. And at the end of the day, we’re all just humans, aren’t we? It’s like the whole Purebloods versus Muggleborns thing. It means shit all.”

“What did I do to deserve you,” Remus said, and rubbed his eyes. He must have been crying; he knew this because there was no other possible reaction he could have to James’ words, the kind of words he’d never imagined anyone saying to him, ever.

Sirius said Remus’ name and nothing else; he punctuated the unfinished sentence with a crushing hug. It hurt unbelievably—Remus’ wounds were still raw—and it felt incredible. James said, “Careful with him, mate,” but Remus did not want Sirius to be careful with him. He wanted it to be real, and if it took a bit of hurt, well, he’d had worse. He threw his arms around Sirius and sobbed into his shoulder. A moment later—maybe it was longer—he felt another pair of arms, and then another.

When they broke apart at last, Remus had stopped crying, and he knew he looked a right mess. Sirius kept one arm around his shoulder.

“From now on, we’re family,” James said. “No secrets, no lies. Got it?”

“Got it,” Peter said.

“Family,” Sirius said. “Merlin, that’s new.”

Remus took in a shaky breath. “No more secrets.”

“Great, so now that we’re agreed on that—” James produced a scroll of parchment from the pocket of his robes, “—I’ve drawn up some suggestions for a few pranks we can pull off before the next Slug Club meeting, as well as a few potential ways to make full moons easier for our furry friend. Sirius, Pete—how do you feel about doing some seriously illegal magic?”

**Author's Note:**

> james: remus couldn't make it out at the last full moon—he said he was visiting his sick mum. he's not here now. i think we all know what this means.
> 
> peter: *gasps* his mum's a werewolf!
> 
> ~
> 
> i'd like to further flesh out this au into a series, so if you have any questions about how certain things play out or ideas for things you'd like to see, drop a comment below and i might use it as a prompt when i next feel like writing some marauder-y stuff. (also, in case you're not familiar with me & my one-track mind, There Will Be Wolfstar.)


End file.
